


the peanut gallery

by LtTanyaBoone



Category: Cardinal (TV 2017)
Genre: F/M, Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-17
Updated: 2018-10-17
Packaged: 2019-10-23 10:26:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17681681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LtTanyaBoone/pseuds/LtTanyaBoone
Summary: "Sometimes she feels like the 'other woman'. Not because of anything John does. He's pretty much perfect, really."sort-of character study that turned into something else





	the peanut gallery

**Author's Note:**

> it started as a character study on lise and her possible feelings re: being john’s second long-term partner, and then the pun popped into my head and i felt like being silly, so i ran with it. as i originally tagged it "this is basically 12k of me being a little dipshit".
> 
> import from my tumblr

Sometimes she feels like the 'other woman'. Not because of anything John does. He's pretty much perfect, really.

But the fact is, he and his late wife had been married for, twenty years, when she died. They had plenty of friends and a lot of acquaintances that saw them together, and whenever they encounter one together, there's this, feeling of awkwardness. And Lise has to consciously remind herself that she's not doing anything wrong, that she didn't 'steal' John away from anyone. Catherine died, she is dead, she's never coming back. And John and her, they got together long after she'd died, too. Like, two, almost three years later. It's not, this wasn't a premeditated thing, on her part. She didn't somehow lie in wait for Catherine to succumb to her mental illness. That she died is horrible, and Lise feels for her. Feels for John, too, and Kelly. But sometimes, the fact that Catherine existed and shared such a large portion of her life with John, it makes her want to scream.

She's pretty sure that this encounter, though, has to be one of the worst. Though John is surprisingly calm, about the whole thing. He just stays where he is, sitting right next to her in those stupid pink plastic chairs. What is it, with gynecologists, and pink? And lavender, and purple, and just the entire spectrum of 'dainty' colors.

"Hey," John murmurs and nudges her shoulder. Lise startles, realizing that she's actually stopped breathing there, for a second. Shakes her head and gets up to ask the receptionist how long she thinks they'll have to wait. Because her appointment was an hour ago, and honestly, if she has to wait a lot longer, then she'll just come back tomorrow, or some other day. Sitting in the same waiting room as the mother of Kelly's best friend in primary school, that's just, wrong.

"I'm sorry," the receptionist says and gives her a look that says she's not, only annoyed that Lise asked about a possible timeline. "I know we're running behind, but we've had several complicated cases-"

"I know," Lise responds and reaches up to pinch the bridge of her nose. "I get why, I just... Look, I, need some air, okay?" she shakes her head. Grabs one of the business cards and scribbles her number on it. "I'm right downstairs, just call me and I will be right up," she says and turns, heading for the door and ignoring the receptionist calling after her.

She already has a cigarette in her mouth and is about to light it, when John joins her, and takes it away.

"Ey!" Lise exclaims, turning to glare at him. "Give me that."

He arches an eyebrow at her but holds it out, tip up between his fingers, so she can take it. She does, wondering for a moment where the sudden concern with her particular stress relief valve comes from, when the fact hits her. Her mouth goes slack and the cigarette drops from it, unlit, leaving her to stare at it on the concrete, dumbfounded.

"You know, I get the, 'my body, my rules' thing," John starts, "but why do you even have a pack?"

"I went halves with Szelagy," she sighs. Tilts her head back as much as she can and closes her eyes as she draws a deep breath. The guy is trying to quit, but it's not going too well, and since her stress levels have been through the roof lately, she figured she could take him up on the offer of splitting a pack between them. Incentive for him not to smoke as much, and saving money for her, because even with the occasional smoke, she rarely gets through a whole pack herself. Though that was before, this. Before she found out.

Lise bends down and picks up the cigarette, tossing it, before she gets out the remainder of the pack. Tucks her lighter into it and holds it out to John.

"Take it," she tells him, motioning with the pack. "Clearly I can't be trusted."

"That's not- I didn't mean to imply that," he shakes his head.

"I know," she mutters in response, the fight going out of her. "Just, take it. If I really need one, I'll ask you," she tells him and John gently takes the cigarette pack from her hand, putting it into the pocket of his jacket.

"I actually forgot," she admits as she crosses her arms. Shuffles her feet and looks over at the parking lot.

She wants him to know that this, it wasn't a conscious 'to hell with it' kind of thing. She honestly forgot, for a moment, that smoking is not in her best interest, right now. Well, it kind of never is in her best interest. Okay, in, someone else's best interest.

It keeps slipping her mind, and then she remembers, and it suddenly hits her like a freight train. Little pink plus sign. And there it is, pink, again. What is it with that damn color?

"That woman probably thinks I'm crazy," she mumbles and hears John let out a soft chuckle.

"Maybe," he allows. "Not as crazy as Catherine, though," he shrugs and Lise looks up sharply to stare at him in horror. He never, ever jokes, about Catherine and her mental illness. Well, almost never. Only when he knows it'll get a rise out of the other person.

Lise feels him touch her hand and moves slowly. Uncrosses her arms and lets him take her hand. She thinks that's all he'll do. They're usually pretty, contained, when it comes to PDAs. Holding hands, brief kisses on each other's cheeks, that about all they allow themselves, especially around people that know they are police officers.

But John surprises her by tugging on her hand and pulling her against him so he can hug her tightly and cradle her head. It makes her tense, for a second, before she turns her face into his shirt and relaxes against him. Soaks up his warmth and wraps her arms around his waist.

"I'm sorry," she apologizes, her voice muffled against his shirt.

"For what?" John asks, stroking her hair back from her face when Lise leans back to be able to look at him. Why does he have to be so goddamn tall? It's kind of annoying, in moments like this. On the plus side, though, his height definitely is a bonus when he holds her at night. Being spooned by someone who's a head taller than herself is pretty amazing, in the 'making you feel safe and protected' department, she has to admit.

"Everything," she breathes, tears pooling in her eyes. "Smoking, leaving without telling you where I was going, getting pregnant in the first place-"

"Ah, hey," John whispers and gently starts wiping away the tears that spill from her eyes with the pads of his thumbs. "Come on now, don't apologize for that," he murmurs and leans in to kiss her forehead. She tries to take a calming breath, but only manages a hiccough, and then completely bursts into tears. It's like the floodgates have been opened, and Lise is completely helpless to do anything about stopping the rushing masses of emotions.

John shushes her and holds her tightly, swaying a little to calm her as she twists her fingers into the material of his suit jacket and clutches at him, fighting to be able to take a breath between sobs.

It unnerves her, how he doesn't seem the least bit surprised by this ridiculous display of hers. Then again, maybe she was, overdue. She took the test days ago, yet it didn't really, connect. Not on an emotional level, that is. She'd felt the same as before, really. No, not the same. Numb, actually.

Maybe because she hadn't wanted to get her hopes up. This wasn't the first time she encountered that little pesky plus. The first was during a 'routine' test. She does those every two months or so. Well, did them, every other month. Even though John and her did use protection, there was a chance of it failing, and sure enough, it did after a while. She'd been, mortified, and terrified, and then terrified all over again by John's reaction. He'd blinked at her, once, twice, and then started grinning like an absolute maniac. He'd actually been happy, about her getting pregnant.

Only it, didn't stick. Nor did the second, or the third time, after they'd actually decided on trying for real. Her numbers never went up like they were supposed to, and she was prepared to hear the same thing again this time. Had opted out of the ultrasound and only gotten her blood drawn for confirmation, because she thought she knew what she was going to hear.

Just that her numbers are actually fine. Are happily climbing, like they should be, and she hasn't had any cramps, or spotting, or bleeding of any kind. That they've actually made it so far that she does need an ultrasound, it seems like a huge milestone, a miracle in and of itself, and suddenly, she doesn't know what to feel. She's terrified, because if this turns out to be some weird joke her body is pulling, she knows she'll be absolutely shattered. But at the same time, there's this tiny little speck of hope that it'll be for real, this time.

"Feel better?" John asks her when she finally stops crying. Lise sniffles and gives a mute nod. Leans back, surprised when he bends down to kiss her softly.

"I love you," John whispers as they part, and she feels her heart do this weird somersault kind of thing it always does, when he says those words. Whenever he tells her that he loves her.

"Je t'aime," she returns and reaches up to wipe her tears away. "I'm sorry," she apologizes softly.

"It's fine," he assures her and strokes her cheeks again, a soft smile tugging on his lips. It makes her shake her head at him.

"You're honestly going to tell me that it's not bothering you that a woman who is your age is up there waiting on news on how her grandchild is doing, while we-" she cuts herself off. Bites down on her tongue, to keep any of those words from slipping out. She refuses to say them, refuses to put the thought that perhaps, they will get their little miracle this time, out into the world. If she does, it'll only hurt worse, when it turns out to be a false hope yet again.

"I think I actually prefer this," John chuckles. "I mean, do I look like a grandpa?" he adds with a feigned frown. It does make Lise giggle, the ridiculous face he pulls and she shakes her head at him again.

"With a little more grey in your beard you might," she teases and hears him draw a sharp breath.

"You wound me, detective," he sighs and hugs her again. Lise feels him brush his lips over her temple and lets out a soft sigh, the panicked knot in her chest unravelling just a tiny bit.

The sound of her cell phone going off makes her jump, nearly slamming her head into John's jaw in the process. He lets her go and she pulls it from her suit jacket, swallowing hard at the sight of the name of her gyn.

"Delorme," she answers and feels John take her hand again. Gives it a tight squeeze as she listens to the receptionist tell her to come back up.

"Thank you," she murmurs and hangs up. Has every intention of actually going back inside, but her feet are refusing to cooperate. Instead, they remain glued to the concrete outside the door, unmoving. Lise looks down, her brows creasing in annoyance.

"Here," John murmurs and takes her other hand, as well. Steps back, giving a slight pull and Lise feels herself take a step, and another, and another, even though the panic keeps rising, begins to spill from her chest into her throat-

"Breathe," John whispers as he presses the button for the elevator. She took the stairs down, earlier, but right now Lise doesn't think she'd be able to manage them. Her stomach is starting to grow unsettled, as well, making her feel queasy.

"Let's find out how peanut is doing," he says as he hits the button for the floor her gynecologist is on, and Lise feels her lips tug into a soft smile.

"Peanut," she repeats softly and casts a look at him, and John grins at her before leaning down for a quick kiss. She reaches up with one hand to cradle his cheek, warmth and happiness coiling in her stomach.

* * *

She tilts her head at the contents of the fridge, brows furrowing.

"Cream cheese?" she asks, looking down her body. Uses her free hand to rest it below her navel, where her shirt is stretching across the bump that's started to appear. Feels her insides squirm with displeasure at the thought of that particular food choice.

"Non," Lise sighs. "Yoghurt?" she tries instead. Waits, for the familiar feeling of nausea, and almost lets out a triumphant yell when it does not come. Instead, she grabs a cup of the fruity yoghurt John picked up the other day. Raspberry. Perfect.

She closes the fridge and grabs a spoon, taking her food to the den and curling up on the couch again. Picks up the hot water bottle and settles it across her lower abdomen, before she opens her cup of yoghurt and starts digging in, eyes scanning the options on the TV screen, where she's pulled up Netflix.

She knew that she probably wouldn't be able to work for the entirety of her pregnancy. But she'd thought that she'd at least get further along than, this. She feels fine, really. And besides a very panicked middle-of-the-night phone call to her gynecologist, everything's been great, so far.

She's not proud of that moment. It still fills her with so much embarrassment, to think about how besides herself she'd been. She hadn't even had the presence of mind to think of calling her doctor, that had been John's idea. John, who she'd woken up crying in terror because she'd been having cramps. Well, not cramps, but like, twinges, and surely those would only get worse and then she'd start bleeding and in the end, she'd lose this baby, too.

Turns out, those pains? They're her muscles stretching and shifting, to make room for the baby as it grows. Her gynecologist has sounded pretty amused, actually. Sleepy, definitely, but there had been a humorous note in her voice as she'd talked Lise down from a panic attack. Enough so that she could agree to come in the next morning, for a scan, just to make sure. She hadn't gotten any sleep, that night, but on the monitor the next morning, Peanut had been just perfect, the picture of textbook development.

It had led to another long conversation, about risk management and reducing stress. She was already on medical leave even before that episode. Went on it like, three days, after their first ultrasound. She knows it was the right decision, knows that this is considered a high risk pregnancy, given her history of losses. But it still feels a little, unnecessary, just a tiny bit like paranoia and overkill.

Yet here she is, sitting on their couch and eating yoghurt while watching stupid and random things on Netflix. It's been what? Three weeks? Three weeks, and she's already going crazy with boredom, Lise thinks, as she finishes her snack and checks her watch.

She only has to get through another three hours, before John gets off work. With a sigh, Lise selects one of the nature documentaries and settles down again, making a mental note to see if her local library doesn't have some audiobooks or something she can get. Because if this is her after not even three weeks, bored out of her skull and fed up with everything, it will be a very, very long pregnancy, indeed.

And they're only really aiming for thirty weeks. Anything else her doc will consider a huge bonus, but thirty weeks is where she wants Lise to get to. She does, too. She wants this, wants it so badly. This tiny little squirming thing inside of her is soaking up so much of her love already. She went through hell, thrice, to get here, and she'll do whatever it takes to make sure Peanut stays just where they are, right now, for as long as possible.

* * *

"Sorry," John murmurs, withdrawing his hand. She quickly reaches out to grab it and put it back against her belly.

"It's fine," she sighs and scoots back in bed, so she is pressing up against him. Feels him shift and then his lips brush against the skin behind her ear, drawing a content sigh from Lise.

"Is it that cold out?" she asks and feels him chuckle. His fingers were pretty icy, hence why she jumped at the contact before.

"Not really," John murmurs in response as she trails her fingertips over his lower arm. She heard him come home, but was so close to drifting off that she hadn't felt like getting up to greet him. She's been having a killer headache and thought laying down and perhaps catching a nap would help.

"You have something for dinner yet?" he asks and she feels herself tense, already giving him an answer to his question.

Sure enough, she hears him sigh and feels him inhale, though the reprimand doesn't come. It makes her blink in surprise.

"I'm sorry," Lise whispers and closes her eyes for a moment.

She knows she has to eat. It's not like she is actively ignoring her body when it tells her that it's hungry. The problem is that it doesn't do that, anymore. Not really. Maybe it's a side-effect of the pregnancy and her nausea. But most of the time, she really doesn't feel like eating, at all. Even when she consciously knows that she should be hungry, given how long it's been, since she last ate.

It's gotten to a point where she actually has to watch her calorie intake. Has to make sure she doesn't undereat, because that has definitely happened. And the only reason she noticed was because they took her weight at the gynecologist and she'd actually managed to lose four pounds, instead of gaining any.

Thankfully, Peanut seems to be fine. They're still growing, still right on track. But if it's going to stay that way, Lise knows she has to put in more of an effort.

"What do you feel like having?" John asks and she draws a slow breath. Turns onto her back and tries to think of something. Runs through a mental list of foods and dishes that she's tried before that didn't seem to upset her stomach as much.

"I don't know," she finally answers, fighting back tears. Slowly sits up and tucks her shirt down again. "Nothing sounds good," she adds at John's worried expression.

"Alright," he nods. "How about, pasta?" he suggests and Lise feels herself pull a face before she's even processed his words.

"No pasta, then," he laughs and takes her hand, entwining their fingers. "Rice?"

"Maybe?" Lise says, tilting her head. The mere idea doesn't sound disgusting, so that seems like a good thing.

"Okay, rice, then. Fish?"

"Oh God, please, no," she quickly shakes her head and touches her hand against her abdomen. Almost feels like she can feel Peanut squirm in displeasure at the mere thought of ingesting anything with a tail and scales.

"Any meat at all?" John tries instead.

"I don't think they like the idea," Lise shakes her head, poking her bump a little.

"Hey, what about those chicken breasts we had the other day?" he asks, sitting up. "I know you got heartburn from that, but we can cut out the peppers this time, go easy on the seasoning. Rice, broccoli, roasted chicken breast with a little butter, how's that sound?"

"I don't think we have any," Lise sighs.

"I can go pick some up," he insists. Leans over to kiss her cheek. "Anything else I should get from the store?"

"Popsicles," she immediately answers. Not exactly the healthiest thing, they're basically only flavored sugar water, but she's found that sometimes, they help settle her stomach when she feels particularly horrid.

"Alright," he nods. "Chocolate, too?"

Lise feels herself blush and inclines her head sheepishly, drawing a laugh from John.

It's not her fault their kid has a sweet tooth, though. Nor is it her fault that he keeps dropping all sorts of sweets and candy in her lap. Then again, that may just be partial relief that she is getting something in her, even if it is basically empty calories and unhealthy stuff.

"I'll come with you," she declares and gets up to grab herself a pair of jeans to get changed into.

"I can pick up food myself," John immediately argues and she gives him a glare, pulling down her sweatpants before she steps into her jeans.

"And I can walk around a store," she tosses back at him. Seriously, though, his hovering can be too much. Not that she doesn't worry, but her doctor didn't put her on bedrest. She told her to take it easy and take plenty of breaks and listen to her body, yes. But Lise is allowed to be on her feet for longer than it takes her to use the bathroom, thank you very much.

"Alright, okay," John lets out an exaggerated sigh before he reaches for her and gently pulls her over to where he sits on the edge of the bed. Pulls her close and then ducks his head under her shirt, to kiss the bump. His beard scratches against her skin, making Lise squirm, but when he withdraws, she finds herself cradling his head, pulling him back in again. Lifts her shirt to see him rub his nose against her skin before he trails butterfly kisses around her navel.

"Hm," she lets out a content sigh and closes her eyes, basking in his closeness and affection. He's been so gentle, with her, since they found out. Concerned, yes, but not the aggressive kind. He lets her make her own choices, but he's there, in the background, ready to catch her if she stumbles.

* * *

"Lise?"

John's voice sounds, worried. She hears his footsteps pause and quickly opens her eyes and holds up an arm, so he'll see her from the doorway. She's pretty sure that the coffee table blocks the sight of her body from that angle.

"I'm fine," she says as he hurries over and stares at where she is lying on the floor in the den.

"Uh-huh," he mutters and holds out a hand to her. She gives a slow shake of her head, but still sits up. "Why are you on the floor?" he asks her, lowering himself down, as well.

"Yoga," she tells him, rolling her neck. Which is basically the only kind of exercise she's been allowed. Not even pregnancy yoga, but Pregnancy Yoga Lite.

She understand why. Gets the concern. She's worried, too. That's why she went to a gynecologist specialized in high-risk pregnancies as soon as she saw the pink plus. What happened before, those other pregnancies, they're still fresh on her mind. She still remembers crying for hours on end every single time. Remembers the grief and the feeling of, emptiness, following her miscarriages. The emotional void that came from losing something she'd been wanting so much.

That doesn't mean that this doesn't suck. That she doesn't feel frustrated, by the lack of exercise. She used to go running almost every day, did boxing as well, and some light lifting. Used to play soccer, too. And now she's reduced to what counts as glorified breathing exercises in her book. It's frustrating and stupid and she feels ungrateful at the same time for even thinking that way.

"Ah," John murmurs and leans in for a soft kiss. Bumps his nose against hers, making her let out a soft giggle.

"I did not mean to, scare you," she tells him before brushing her lips over his again. "I just lost track of time."

"It's fine," he shakes his head. "I guess I just, I was too worried. I didn't notice the mat," he laughs and she reaches out to cradle his face. Strokes her thumbs over his cheeks, searching his eyes.

"They're fine," she declares and moves to kneel. John stands and offers his hand again. Lise accepts it and lets him help her up, leaning against him for a moment, to make sure she won't suddenly faint. Getting up fast has been a bad idea, she's found.

"Still doing acrobatics?" John murmurs and slips his hand under her shirt.

"Probably," Lise laughs, remembering how much Peanut was squirming around during yesterday's scan.

The past few days, she thinks she's actually been feeling them move. If she concentrates hard, that is. Mostly around the time when John and her are settling on the couch, after dinner. Sometimes in the morning, as well, when she lingers in bed while John gets ready for work. Little flutters and a sensation not unlike the one a carbonated drink causes as it goes down your throat, just a lot lower than that.

Seeing them yesterday, it, surprised her. How big they've gotten, and how much more they're looking like a baby now. No longer this cute, fuzzy alien, but a recognizable baby. They're still Peanut, in her mind, she still calls them that. Thinks the name is cute, and she doesn't want to change it to anything else, even if the baby has long outgrown the 'shapeless blob' phase.

"I, was wondering," he asks, tracing nonsense patterns into her skin, "if you want to go out, to eat? Celebrate."

"Celebrate, what?" she asks, frowning at him. Searches her mind in somewhat of a panic. It's not his birthday, nor their anniversary. That's in, nine weeks. His birthday is still almost six months away.

John blinks at her and his mouth opens in surprise, before he gives an amused shake of his head.

"Halfway mark," he tells her, tapping the side of her belly. "Fifteen weeks, Lise. Fifteen times two-"

"Oh," she breathes, looking down at her belly in stunned surprise. She knows that time is passing. Slowly, agonizingly slow, it seems to her. That she's progressing, getting further along. That Peanut is developing, is growing. They're actually a little on the bigger side, apparently. Well, taller side. She blames John, for that, with his ridiculous height. Not that she's that tiny, herself, but still, he's just, freakishly tall.

But even though she knows she hit fifteen weeks, it didn't really occur to her that this is the halfway mark. It feels, huge, yes, but at the same time, Lise isn't sure if they should really celebrate it. Besides from it feeling like that's kind of, tempting fate, it also… well, every day is kind of a new milestone, isn't it? Today she's the furthest along she's ever been, and tomorrow that will be the same, and then the day after that, and the day after that…

"Lise?"

John's voice pulls her from her thoughts and she looks up so see his face drawn with concern.

"Did I say, something wrong?"

"Non," she quickly shakes her head. "I just, I hadn't, thought of it, like that," she adds with a shrug.

"Okay," John nods, searching her face. "You alright, with thinking of it, like that?"

"Yes," Lise breathes, warmth flooding her. "I think I am," she nods. "And I do want to go out, and celebrate," she adds.

"Great," John smiles and hugs her gently, holding her against him as Lise relaxes. When they part, she suddenly feels something else occuring to her.

"Maybe we could, do some window shopping?" she suggests. "It's still early, too early for dinner," she continues at his confused expression. "We could check out a store or two, see what they have, in terms of furniture, and stuff like that."

They haven't started on the nursery, yet. She knows John has been working on, something, in the basement. Something kind of big, that he keeps covered with a large tarp. He asked her not to look, and she's been respecting that. Besides that, they haven't done any shopping for Peanut whatsoever. And suddenly, she feels herself being filled with this sense of panic, of dread. That they won't get everything together in time, that they'll end up having the baby and their nursery will still be barren-

Lise gives a quick shake of her head. No. That's not going to happen. They have over three months left, to put everything together the way they want it to be. Their baby will have a bed, and dresser, and changing table, and rocking chair, and heaps of clothing and toys and blankets and everything that she's currently forgetting about.

"We, can do that," John nods. "Though maybe going inside the store will be more helpful," he teases, prompting Lise to stick out her tongue at her.

"Let me go get changed, then," she declares and leans up to kiss the underside of his jaw before stepping from his embrace and heading for the bedroom so she can get out of her oversized shirt and slacks.

* * *

She wants something, nice. And gender neutral. Not just because they don't know what they're having. Peanut could turn out to be the girliest girl to ever walk this Earth, yet Lise still doesn't the nursery decked out in shades of pink and purple.

"Tropical Rain," John declares and frowns at one of the color samples. It's a washed out turquoise color and he shows it to Lise. "This looks neither tropical, nor like rain," he huffs, drawing a chuckle from her as she returns to flipping the sample book.

She found a picture online of a pattern she kind of liked. Thick stripes running horizontally along the longest wall of the room, starting at half its height and going down, thinning out and growing lighter as they went. She thinks that they could use the empty space up top to write Peanut's name, once they're here and they've decided on what it'll be.

They've found it easier, making a plan of what they want, before actually going out to get stuff. Figuring out what they're looking for, that has taken some time, and some compromise, as well. But now they have a pretty good idea of what the nursery is going to look like, and Lise finds that easier to deal with than looking at options and going from there, figuring it out 'on the fly' so to speak.

"I know you don't particularly care for lavender," John says, pulling her from her thoughts again. Shows her a sample of a light purple color. "South of France," he rolls his eyes at the name.

"It's, kind of nice," Lise admits. "But not exactly…" she trails off with a frown.

"I know," John nods. "I thought, if we found colors that went well with it, all over the spectrum, then it would be neutral again, right? I mean, the whole thing, that is."

Lise tilts her head at him, mulling the idea over. It sounds like it will either look really great, or be an absolute disaster.

"Alright," she finally settles, agreeing with him. It takes them another hour, and the help of a very nice employee that, by the end of it, is probably happy to see their backs.

She finds that this, it's, exciting. Shopping for the nursery, getting things in preparation for the baby. It makes all of this real, in a scary, terrifying, but also very thrilling way. So far, the only things they have picked up yet are a onesie and a set of bibs. Actually, the onesie was a gift, from the guys at work. They've all signed their well wishes on it, drawing shields and hearts and Arsenault even drew a little butterfly next to his name. It was a cute gesture, one that Lise appreciates a lot. She knows they all knew why she was benched, why she was put on medical leave so fast, but they'd waited with the gift until John and her officially announced it. He tells her that some of the guys, they ask, how she's doing. Even McLeod, who she certainly has had her differences with, has checked in with her. He wrote her a nice email the other day, sharing how John had tried for half an hour to get a copy of a report, before he realized that the machine was out of paper. It had made her laugh, which had probably been the guy's intention.

"Are you going to tell me, what the Coral Sand is for?" Lise asks as John starts loading their purchases in the car. It's a soft sandy beige color that he picked out, refusing to tell her what it's for. She has the feeling that it has to do with whatever it is that he's putting together in the basement.

"Nope," he shakes his head and closes the trunk. "Where to next?" he asks, leaning over her shoulder to check her list.

  * ~~Breakfast~~
  * ~~Paint~~
  * Furniture
  * Clothes
  * Misc



"Can we do clothing, instead?" she asks, rubbing her hand over her belly. "I need to sit down, for a little," she adds at his look.

"Sure," John nods. "How about, we find a place for a nice cup of tea, and a snack," he suggests as they get into the car.

"I'm not really hungry," Lise shakes her head as she buckles herself in, tugging her hand between the seatbelt and her belly. The pressure keeps bothering her and she hasn't figured out a way to keep it down without it riding up again. If they are in an accident, she'll probably end up breaking her hand this way, though, so this is a less-than-ideal solution, to the problem.

"I said snack, not five course meal," John laughs as he starts the engine and starts pulling out of the parking lot. "Seriously though, I could use something," he admits with a tilt of his head. "Halfsies on a, cinnamon bun?" he suggests, and Lise feels her mouth water at the words.

"Alright," she agrees with a fake sigh. She's well aware that John doesn't particularly care for cinnamon anything, really. But he knows perfectly well that she's been craving the buns that one of the bakeries sells, after he brought her one as an apology for having to leave in the middle of the night.

"I'm not sharing my tea, though," he adds, making her laugh. Who would have thought that between John and her, he would be the one to actually like the ginger tea she tried to relieve her nausea with.

* * *

The feeling of John's hands slowly moving over her belly makes her eyes flutter shut. Lise lets out a soft sigh of appreciation and tries to relax.

And finds Peanut absolutely unimpressed, with what their father is doing. They keep moving around, pressing against her skin and kicking at her.

"Do you want me to stop?" he asks and Lise blinks her eyes open again. Frowns at her belly and gives the left side a poke in retaliation for a rather strong punch. Or kick. Whichever it was, it was uncomfortable.

The baby moves again, seemingly aiming for the same spot.

"Stop it," she sighs. "I was enjoying that."

The soft chuckle leaving John makes her flush in embarrassment. She doesn't often talk to the baby, when he's around. It makes her feel, self-conscious, to know he's listening to her more or less mumbling to herself. When she's alone, she's caught herself keeping up a running commentary, a one-sided conversation, with her belly. She thinks Peanut may like it. At least they get, quieter, when she talks for a while.

"Maybe they're jealous," he suggests with a contemplative look on his face. Carefully closes the cap of the lotion he was just rubbing into her skin and sets the bottle aside. Then he stretches out, as well, and leans in to kiss her belly, in the same spot she just poked.

"There," he declares. "I love you, as well. No need to feel left out," he whispers and Lise shifts a little. Pushes the pillow she's using for her head further up, so she can watch him without putting such a strain on her neck.

"Careful," she whispers, reaching out to run her fingers through his thick hair. "Or you'll get a foot to the face."

At John's barking laugh, she feels the baby jerk. Quickly reaches down and strokes the other side of her belly in an attempt to calm Peanut. Reassure them they're fine.

"Sorry," John apologizes. "Didn't mean to scare you," he adds, kissing her skin again before he scoots up on the bed to kiss her.

When they part, Lise pulls a face at the taste of lotion on her lips. She reaches up to wipe it off as John holds his hand against her belly, his brows furrowed slightly as he concentrates on feeling the baby move.

They've been really active, today. Kept waking Lise from her nap with their movements, even, until she'd relocated to the rocking chair, finding that the motion seemed to settle the baby.

"They can't really hear me, can they?" John asks, tracing a heart onto Lise's skin and causing goosebumps to break out on her skin.

"Probably not," she shakes her head. "Not yet, anyway," she adds, at second thought. "There is evidence that at around twenty-five weeks, babies start to react to outside noises. But even if that is the case, anything they do hear is muffled by the fluid around them, plus my skin," she frowns, wiggling her hips when it seems like Peanut may be settling on her bladder. Her attempt to encourage them to move a little, find a more comfortable position for the two of them.

"You ever want to play them some music?"

The question makes her tilt her head. She has considered it, though she knows that she has to wait just a little longer, before they can actually hear anything she presses against her belly. She kind of wants to know, what Peanut is going to do, how they're going to react to different songs and genres. Maybe even different languages, who knows.

"Maybe," she answers and turns her head to kiss him again. "Thank you," she murmurs. "For the massage," she adds at his confused look. "And not commenting on when I woke you up twice last night as I went to pee," Lise giggles, drawing a soft chuckle from John.

"I have considered taking the couch," he nods solemnly. "I'm joking," he quickly adds at her look.

"You may have a point, though," Lise allows. "Maybe it would be better, if we, slept separately for the time being-"

"No," John gives a resolute shake of his head, surprising her at the intensity of his protest. "Unless you are uncomfortable with me sharing your bed, I don't care about losing a bit of sleep. Seems only fair, given that you're up yourself."

"John," Lise whispers and cradles his face. Looks into his eyes, meets his gaze head-on. "I can catch a nap whenever I get tired. You're a cop. I don't want you out there, all sleep-deprived," she shakes her head.

It makes him let out a soft huff.

"I'm not sleep deprived," he declares. "Seriously, this was what? Ten minutes I lost, total? It's fine, sweetheart."

The term of endearment makes her heart melt. They didn't used to be big on those. Still aren't. She calls him 'mon amour' sometimes, though mostly when she's teasing him. He used darling once or twice, before he saw her crinkle her nose at it. It reminds her too much of the way he talks to Kelly, to be honest. Not that she does not like the affectionate tone, but, that's his daughter. She's his partner, and it had just rubbed her the wrong way, especially given their age gap.

But sweetheart, now that is something she very much enjoys. Anytime John is so affectionate and gentle with her, really. It surprised her, this soft side of him, when she first got to know him. He has this, gruff, rough exterior and tough image, but when it comes down to it, when it involves people he cares about, he's just a big old softie, Lise has found. And she wouldn't have it any other way.

* * *

"It's so soft," Lise whispers and hugs the baby blanket to herself. Hears John chuckle softly as he wraps his arms around her from behind.

He, made a crib. An honest to God actual swinging crib. For their baby. He made their baby a crib, without her knowing.

Lise lets out a soft sniffle and turns around to hug him tightly.

"Thank you," she breathes against his neck. "Merci, merci beaucoup. Je l'aime tellement," she whispers and moves to kiss him.

"You like it?" he asks as they part and Lise shakes her head at him. Reaches up and carefully wipes the tears from her eyes.

"I love it," she tells him. "It is beautiful, John," she murmurs and brushes her lips over his again before turning to take in his work again.

"I, made Kelly's, as well," he tells her, his hand squeezing her hip briefly. "I wanted to do it this time, too," he adds. "Her's was bigger, though. One of those, massive ones, you know?"

"Hm," Lise hums and runs her fingers over the painted wood. So that is why he picked up the sand-colored paint. It seems like he, painted the wood with it, and then put a laquer on top of that, to make it shine.

"It's not, I didn't make this smaller because… It just, Kelly, she liked the bouncer, and some babies really enjoy gentle swinging. I thought it would be nice, to have the option of that, you know?"

"John," Lise mutters and takes his hand. Gives it a hard squeeze before she raises it to her lips. "It's perfect," she smiles at him.

"Uh, not just yet," he says, nodding towards the kind of barren spot at one of the smaller sides. A bare spot in the carving he did around the railing. "We can put their name on there, once we've decided what it'll be."

Lise gapes at him, for a second, before wrapping her arms around him again, to hold him tightly.

They'd originally planned on doing that, on the wall, but then as they got to painting on the stripes, had realized that it would probably be, too much. So they abandoned that idea and ran the stripes up just a little further. She thought he'd, forgotten about it. Had thought that he hadn't been that big of a fan of the idea in the first place. She'd been the one who'd wanted the name on there, it had felt like he was just, humoring her.

The nursery is almost finished now, too. They have the crib, a changing table, a dresser and a sectioned shelf for toys and pictures and things like that.

John put one of the ultrasound pictures in a frame and put it up. It has the soles of Peanut's feet on it. That was taken the last scan. Her gynecologist had started the ultrasound and began laughing and shown them the image. It had been so cute, and reminded Lise of those casts some parents made, of their children's hands or feet when they're young.

There are other pictures, as well. Of John and her, together. And separate, was well. One of John his daughter took a while back, where he's looking down at something and smiling softly. And one of Lise in a similar pose that John snapped. She thinks he took that, at the precinct picnic a year ago.

Lise walks over and picks up the soft lamb they picked up, on one of their shopping trips. She hadn't wanted a teddy bear, for Peanut. Maybe because of a lingering resentment with the Mounties' mascot. But John had seen this and picked it up, and it had been, perfect. A little fluffy lamb with incredibly soft fur. She hides her face in it for a moment before taking it over to the crib and sitting it down in a back corner, draping the baby blanket over its legs.

* * *

It feels like she's holding her breath and counting down the days, sometimes even hours.

Signing up fo a Lamaze class had seemed, ridiculous, at first. Like a huge waste of time, really. She's never going to make it to her due date, anyway, and most of these classes would have given her like, two, maybe three sessions, before her thirtieth week and delivery.

But her gynecologist encouraged her to have a look, to check it out at least once. And John had seemed kind of eager, as well, so she'd signed them up for one of the classes close to home.

Which is where she finds herself this Friday night. On the floor of an aerobics studio, with John sitting at her back.

Peanut moves, pressing against her spine again and Lise pulls a face, shifting against John. Who reaches between them and touches his hand to her back, offering her some relief from the pain. They've been a little pest, today. Every time Lise thinks she found a position that's both comfortable and doesn't make her cramp up within five minutes, Peanut will move, ruining any semblance of comfort she might have just attained.

Sometimes, she wonders if they do it on purpose.

She had, a bad time, last week, when the baby hadn't moved for hours. It's not unusual, there are periods when they're not as active, times when they won't move at all, even, while they're asleep. But this time, it had been during the period when she usually does kick counts, and Peanut had been absolutely still. She'd poked her belly and walked for a little, but there'd been nothing. Trying again half an hour later had yielded the same result, at which point, she'd started to panic. The last time she'd felt them move had been after lunch, now it was four hours later and they were still not budging, not even after an icy drink.

Her gynecologist had answered her phone on the second ring, and told Lise to go to the hospital right away. She'd sounded, worried, and that had only freaked her out even more.

The entire car ride, she'd been pleading with Peanut to move. Just once, just a little kick, or a turn, anything at all, but they're remained dead still. By the time the OB/GYN at A&E saw them, Lise was crying, and John wasn't too far from it, as well.

The older woman had palpated her belly and then pressed against both sides with her hands before lifting. She'd warned Lise, that it would get uncomfortable, and it had been, but the result had been nearly instantaneous: Peanut had started squirming around almost immediately, clearly unhappy by the sudden movement and intrusion upon their safety. They ran an ultrasound after, and Peanut had seemed just fine. Their heartbeat had been regular, if slightly elevated, though the doctor had ascribed that to Lise's own heart rate being less-than-ideal, at the time. They'd admitted her for twenty-four hour monitoring, to make sure that there wasn't anything wrong they couldn't see on a half-hour ultrasound, but even that came back clear. Whatever it was, it had stopped, and Peanut seemed to be perfectly healthy.

Though they haven't forgiven Lise, for that episode. She's sorry, for upsetting them, really. On the scan before they discharged her, Peanut had actually been crying, back arching and their arms moving jerkily as their mouth opened and closed. She'd started crying herself again, then, feeling absolutely horrid about putting the baby through this, though the woman who did the scan assured her it was a normal developmental process, only that most women never saw it because their babies didn't do it 'on camera', so to speak. But Lise had to admit that, while the thumb-sucking image from a previous scan was cute, this one has stayed with her even more, for how much it tore at her heartstrings.

She probably would have stayed home, today, if she'd known what tonight was going to be about. She's pretty sure that Andrea didn't mention belly painting last session, but then again, maybe Lise hadn't been paying attention. She had been rather tired, the baby constantly pulling her from sleep by strange movements the night before.

"How much do you want to bet, they'll like this as much as the oil?" John chuckles as he tilts his head at her belly.

It makes Lise chuckle as she shifts, laying down on the floor with a pillow supporting her back.

"Any wishes? Nothing fancy, though," he says. "I think my art skills capped out in primary school," he jokes, trailing a dry brush absentmindedly over her skin. She reaches down and touches his wrist, stilling the movement.

"I'd say I don't care and to surprise me, but I don't think that's the goal here," she sighs. "Clouds? Maybe? A rainbow and butterflies?"

"Sounds good," John nods and goes to grab some paints.

"No cheating," Andrea scolds them when she passes a few moments later and finds Lise holding her phone, a picture of a rainbow pulled up on it. She went to check the colors, though she does put the phone away. Truth be told, the first color combination that had come to her mind had been that of the pride flag, and she's pretty sure John wouldn't have appreciated that. Not because he has anything against the LGBT community, but because it doesn't apply, to them. Not really, at least. While she is bisexual, they are both cisgender and in a straight relationship, so it would have felt, weird.

"You know, I was thinking," John murmurs as he starts drawing, making Lise jump at the sensation of the cold, wet paint on her naked skin. "Sorry," he apologizes. "I can't really, warm this."

"Now you're just looking for excuses," she teases him. And quickly reaches out when it looks like he may actually start pouring paint into his hand to warm it up first. "It's fine," she tells him. "What were you thinking about?" she asks, tilting her head at him.

"Would it be terribly insensitive if I put a book for me in your bag, too?"

Lise blinks at him, then slowly shakes her head no.

"No," she answers. "I feel stupid, for not thinking about that before now, actually," she frowns, berating herself. She has a book in there, plus her phone charger and an extra battery, for her phone and tablet. In case she does run out of things to do, as they wait. While she's pretty sure that she'll end up having a c-section, she'd like to try natural childbirth. It kind of does depend, on how far along she gets, and how labor works out, and how Peanut does during it, and how she handles it herself. And even if she goes into labor early, they'll at least try to wait long enough to make sure that she is really in labor and that it won't stop, before they get Peanut out of there. Unless it's an emergency, there will probably be a bit of, sitting around and waiting, and she hadn't considered that it could get just as boring, for John.

"I didn't, either, but Milton mentioned it earlier," John shrugs, casting a glance over at one of the other couples, who are bickering with each other, again. It's not their first kid, either, but Lise keeps wondering why these two are together, still. All they seem to do is be snarky with each other, and not in the teasing, loving kind of way.

She shakes her head, trying to rid herself of those thoughts. Other people's relationships are none of her business. She had her own, one she is very happy with.

"Tickles," she mutters as John reaches the side of her belly and Lise jerks. He smiles at her in leans in for a quick kiss, mindful of not letting his clothes brush against her belly.

In the end, she ends up with a huge butterfly drawn on her belly, surrounded by a few clouds and a rainbow in the background. Andrea, the midwife who runs the class, snaps pictures of every couple and promises to send them via email, and John gets Milton to take one on his phone, as well, so he can send it to Lise immediately.

She decides she wants to get it printed and put it up in the nursery, when she sees the way John just absolutely beams at her.

* * *

"You're not coming out," Lise whispers and rubs her hand over her belly. "Not yet. You have to stay in here for another, five weeks, at least," she tells Peanut. "So stop it, it won't work, anyway."

John lets out a soft chuckle and she feels him touch her neck, gently stroke over the skin there. She leans back into the touch and allows herself to close her eyes, for a moment.

It's actually pretty quiet, in A&E, right now. They're still waiting for the OB/GYN consult to come down and check her out. At least they got her hooked to a CTG, so they can monitor Peanut and her contractions.

She's definitely having those. This is, this isn't the false alarm three days ago, when she thought that maybe, she was going into labor, but it was just a weird muscle spasm. It feels, different, and it hasn't stopped. Nor do they feel worse, Lise will admit that. She wasn't sure, what was going on, so she'd spent like, two hours in front of the TV, trying to figure out if it was just a fluke or what, but the pains had persisted, so she'd caved and woken John.

Part of her almost wants it to be the, real deal. Wants to have the baby, now. To be able to finally meet Peanut, for real. Also because she will just feel absolutely terribly, if they send her home again and she got John up for nothing.

At the same time, it's, too soon. It's only week 34, the beginning of it, even. Thirty-four weeks, two days. Peanut, they're not ready. It would be better, if they stayed in there, for just another month. She got this far, surely another month isn't that much more to ask-

"As much as I love you," John murmurs and she feels him nudge her arm, "you are cutting off my blood supply."

She looks down and sees her fingers digging into his thigh. Quickly releases her hold and pulls her hand back.

"They'll be alright," John says and she feels him brush his lips over her cheek as she frowns down at her belly.

"I hope so," she whispers, resting her hand on the underside of her belly and lifting it just a tiny bit. Peanut seems to like it, when she does that. Seems to, calm down, in their movements when she does.

The door to the exam room opens and Lise looks up. The doctor that enters looks vaguely familiar, though the big yawn she lets out does not inspire confidence.

"Sorry," she apologizes and shakes her head. "They called me at home, I just got here," she adds as she shakes Lise's hand and then John's before rolling her shoulders.

"Still feeling contractions?" she asks as she goes to check the CTG read-out.

"Yes," Lise nods. Wiggles her butt a little, to get Peanut to shift. It's to no avail, she'll have to deal with them sitting awkwardly on her spine. Not exactly the most comfortable thing she's ever experienced, that's for sure.

"Alright, I can see them," the doctor nods and returns, palpating Lise's belly as she reads her chart by placing it on the bed. "Thirty-four weeks," she mumbles, tilting her head.

"Good news, your baby is head down," she declares with a soft smile before letting go. "Alright, we're going to do an internal exam, possibly an ultrasound, and then we'll talk options from there. How's that sound?"

"Like you think this is really happening," Lise sighs and reaches up to rub her hand over her forehead. She was still hoping that maybe, Peanut would turn out to be trying in vain to get out. She doesn't want to have them, not just yet. Thirty-four weeks, that's, that's way too early. They got to stay in here for a while longer.

"I'm not sure yet," the doctor shakes her head, starting to scribble orders into Lise's chart. "Obviously, thirty-four weeks is not ideal, but besides needing a short stay in the NICU, most babies delivered at this stage turn out fine."

"Most?" John pipes up as Lise finds herself frowning.

"Look," the doctor shakes her head. "I'll take you upstairs to L&D. We'll have a look, at what this little guy thinks they're doing, and then we will take it from there," she declares and closes the chart. "I'll turn this off, and get you a wheelchair."

"I can walk," Lise shakes her head as she slowly sits up on the gurney.

"Hospital policy," the doctor shakes her head as she leaves them, having unhooked Lise from the CTG.

"Great," she mumbles and reaches up to pinch the bridge of her nose. Hears John stand and then feels him hug her. She leans forward a little, to rest her head against his chest. Tries to fight down the tears of disappointment.

"Hey, no crying," he whispers as he rubs his hands down her back in a soothing caress. "You never know, maybe Peanut decides that they like being cozy too much and change their mind."

"Let's hope they do," Lise replies, biting back a curse as she feels her belly harden yet again with another contraction. Why is it that this child has to defy her at every possible opportunity? Not that she doesn't sometimes appreciate their stubbornness, but this is not an area where she thinks it is well-suited for Peanut to argue with her over what her body gets to do.

At least she gets her own room, Lise thinks when they are brought upstairs. The CTG is kind of annoying, the cables and the pressure it puts on her belly. She feels like Peanut is not appreciating it, either, because the nurse has to keep adjusting it. Every time she seems to have found the heartbeat and puts the strap in place, shortly after, the baby moves, and she has to do it over again.

"Sorry," the doctor apologizes when, during the exam, her touch makes Lise jump and inhale sharply. "Tell me, if you feel another contraction coming," she asks and Lise nods mutely, biting her lower lip in discomfort, before she feels John touch it and releases it with a shaky breath. The last thing she needs, is to cause herself a wound in need of stitches.

"Alright, you can sit up now," the doctor says when she withdraws again. Lise is about to and lets out a whimper when a contraction catches her in the motion. John quickly helps her straighten and she clings to his arms, a pained gasp leaving her as she screws her eyes shut.

"I spoke to your gynecologist," the other woman says, making notes in Lise's chart. "She felt like it might be better, to let nature take its course, and after examining you, I have to say I agree with her," she tells them.

"I don't," Lise protests, rubbing the side of her belly. "It's too early-"

"You are at four centimeters, Lise," the doctor interrupts her protest. "Your contractions are getting closer and I want to bet they're stronger, as well. I don't think trying to stop this is our best option," she shakes her head. "I'm sorry," she adds, her voice softer. "But on the plus side, things are pretty slow, right now. We have a wonderful scheduling error that means we have two doctors in abundance today. Which is great news, for you, because you get to try this whole natural childbirth thing, after all," she smiles at Lise. "That is, if you want to," she adds at the stunned expression she finds on their faces.

"Yes," Lise quickly nods. "Yes, I, I do, I want to- you're not joking?" she asks, frowning. "What happens if, if it takes longer than one shift?" she inquires.

"Then we will talk again," the doctor nods decisively. "I can book an OR, for a c-section. Or I can move you to a delivery suite. Your call."

"Suite," Lise says after only a second's hesitation.

"Alright," the other woman nods with a bright smile. "Let me grab a colleague and then we'll move you and get everything set up," she says and leaves them for a moment. Leaves Lise to stare at the door, dumbfounded, her head spinning will all those developments.

"I'll call Dyson, once you're settled in," John murmurs as he leans over to kiss her temple.

"And Kelly," Lise hears herself say. Touches his chest, and smoothes down his shirt. He did change into a pair of old jeans, before they left, but he's still wearing the old grey t-shirt he slept in.

"She could bring you a change of clothes," she adds, her brows dipping. She has a few, in her bag. Which is still in the car, coming to think of it.

"I have my travel bag in the car," John reminds her. Rubs his hand up and down her back before giving her a one armed, sideways hug and Lise finds herself closing her eyes and reaching up to hold his arm.

She draws a shuddering breath, the reality of what is happening slowly starting to sink in. They're doing this. They're, having a baby. Right now. In a few hours, she'll finally get to hold Peanut in her arms.

The thought fills her with both joy and fear.

* * *

Between John and her, she should have been able to guess that their child would have an incredible innate stubbornness. And even if that hadn't already been enough to make her realize that, moments in her pregnancy when Peanut was absolutely uncooperative with anything they were trying to do should have tipped her off to the fact.

As soon as they moved her to a delivery suite, Peanut apparently changed their mind. Decided that maybe, staying where they were would be a better call, given the fact that it was all nice and cozy.

Which is how she ends up being in labor for almost nineteen hours. At the end of which, Lise is ready to never, ever have sex again, if this is the possible outcome. She's pretty sure that by the end, everyone working in this hospital has had their hand stuck up inside of her. Well, okay, that may be an exaggeration. It's probably only everyone who works on Labor and Delivery.

As much as she'd have wanted Peanut to stay in her belly just a bit longer, she finds herself thinking that perhaps that would have been a bad call. Because if it hurts so badly, with a small baby, she doesn't want to even imagine what it would have been like, had she made it to full term.

For all the stalling Peanut does before, once her water breaks, they seem to realize that there is no going back from this, and within fifteen minutes, there's gurgling and then screaming filling the room and Lise collapses back against John in utter exhaustion and relief.

They whisk Peanut away after she gets a brief glance, and it suddenly hits her that this may be all she gets, and she feels sheer terror filling her. She worked so hard, for this, to make sure that Peanut would be alright, and they didn't even let her touch them. She didn't even get to hold them for a tiny second, before they were taken away, and she can see the NICU team working on the baby in the other room, can see them move around through the window in the door, and Lise can't help herself, she starts crying and sobbing, unable to stop even when John cradles her face and strokes her cheek and tells her that it'll be alright, they'll be fine, they were crying, after all-

What finally gets her to stop crying is the softest gurgling sound she's ever heard. She turns her head from where she's hidden her face against John's clavicle and sees a midwife holding Peanut, the baby swaddled in her arms.

She immediately reaches for them and has them in her arms the next moment, and Lise starts crying again.

They're absolutely, utterly perfect. Incredibly tiny, yes, and wrinkly, and she does hear them say that it'll only be for a moment, because Peanut does have to go to the NICU for observation. But she doesn't care, at all, about that. Just holds them close and showers their little face in kisses. Touches their cheek and tries to memorize their features as best as she can.

They look unhappy, with their face all scrunched up, but the longer they are in Lise's arms, the more they seem to relax, the little wrinkles disappearing, their face smoothing out.

It's only when one of the doctors is about to take Peanut up to the NICU, that the color beanie they're wearing is sinking in. The beige with the little pink butterflies.

"A girl?" she whispers, looking up so stare at John, whose face is blotchy from his own tears. His hand is bigger than Peanut's face, it looks so strange, so see him cradle their head in it.

"Yeah," he murmurs and leans in to kiss her temple, and Lise lets out a soft chuckle. A tiny, little baby girl. It feels like it hasn't really sunken in just yet, but she's here, Peanut is finally, finally here, and Lise doesn't think she could be any happier than she is, right now, with their daughter cradled against her and those soft sounds coming from the baby.

* * *

It, needs a wash.

Lise picks up the stuffed lamb. Hugs it close, for a moment, before she sinks down onto the bed. Frowns, at a new bald patch in the stuffed animal's fur. That wasn't there just a week ago, she doesn't think.

"There you are," Lara mutters as she bounds into the doorway. Halts and cocks her head, holding out her hand. Lise looks up at the girl, hesitating.

"Are you sure you don't want me to, run it through the wash, for you?" she asks and watches as Lara rolls her eyes.

"Yes," she declares. "It won't dry in time, anyway," she shakes her head and moves her hand. With a sigh, Lise relinquishes the hold she has on the toy and hands it over. Watches as Lara lifts the stuffed animal and rubs her face against what is left of its fur. The sight of which makes Lise's heart melt and fills her eyes with tears at the memories.

"Aw, Maman," Lara mutters as she walks over and joins her on the bed. "Don't cry," she murmurs as Lise wraps an arm around her daughter's shoulder. Leans in to kiss her temple and them rests her cheek against her hair.

"I'm trying not to," she whispers. Gives Lara's shoulder a gentle squeeze. "You have to call, every day."

"Every other day," Lara reminds her of the agreement they reached. "Seriously, you're acting like I'm, moving off the face of the earth. It's just college."

"I know," Lise sighs. Rubs her hand down her daughter's arm. "I know it's just college. And I'm happy, for you. That doesn't mean I can't be just a tiny bit sad, as well, alright?"

Lara lets out a soft sound and Lise sees her tug on the remainder of Choppy's fur. That explains why so much of it is missing. Well, that, and being loved on for eighteen years probably played a big part, as well.

"You know, when you were little, and Kelly had just told us she was pregnant, I asked you to never, ever grow up," Lise sighs. "You know what you said?"

"No," Lara shakes her head, watching her.

"Exactly that," Lise laughs. "You just grinned at me and shook your head and yelled 'NO!' before running off."

Her daughter lets out a laugh at the story and shakes her head before leaning into kiss Lise's cheek.

"I love you, Mom."

"I love you, too, Peanut," she responds and hugs the teen again. "Come on, let's go find your father," she declares as she gets up from Lara's bed.

"I think he's in the workshop," Lara says as she stands, taking Lise's hand as they walk down the hallway, the teenager holding onto her stuffed animal with the other.

_fin._


End file.
